What once was
by crossroadx
Summary: Sylar finds the piece of glass which killed Peter the first time. Of course Peter is there to comfort and help him with his guilt.


What once was (long version)

Title: What once was

Pairing: Peter/Sylar

Rating: NC-17

Summary: Long story to the glass/shoe drabble( It begins with _IT_ and ends with _stare at him,_ set after Peter's Flashback)

Warnings: male/male sex, swearing, kinda kinky, sad touch, mentions of death (enough warnings?)

AN: A few people liked the drabble, so I thought why not write a whole story? Here it is. Slight different warning: I'm not new to fanfiction, I already wrote a lot. _(In German)_ It is NOT my first English story, it is betaed, BUT still...I have yet to figure out my style and if there's a mistake? Say it! Immediately, I must learn! =) Good, now go ahead and have fun.

_2007_

"_What do you do with something that killed you?"_

"_You can put it underneath your pillow. I don't know what I would've done."_

"_Don't think about it. I didn't die."_

_He was thinking about things now, after everything had happened. The whole incident with Sylar trying to kill him and then being rescued by Claire, who had been half-send to Paris._

_He had left his brother's house shortly after Heidi had come back. But not without something important._

_He couldn't throw _it_ away. After all _it_ had killed him. It had been in his bloody head, literally. _

_Peter stared at the piece in his hands and his own red blood on _it_, deciding to do the first thing that came to his mind: wash away the red substance. If he wanted to keep the thing, he had to clean it. _

_Standing in front of the sink, he began washing the glass. While the blood slowly disappeared, his thoughts wandered back to his first encounter. Real encounter, not a fleet meeting like Texas. _

_God, he had been scared, so scared. The only reason his skull hadn't been cut open back then was his fear of dying. Death was scary, Peter had seen it often enough. His instinct had stepped in and, in the end, been useless. He had died anyway. It sounded so surreal: he had died. _

_Then, why couldn't he remember anything? Shouldn't he remember heaven or hell? Or didn't they even exist? No life after? _

"_Ow."_

_Without noticing, he had scrubbed harder, cutting himself with the broken piece again. With scrunched eyebrows he stared at the already closed cut. _

_He felt his breath becoming harsher and balled his hand into a fist. Angry Peter invested his kitchen._

_...Absolutely not. This THING wasn't allowed anywhere near him, anywhere where he could see it. _

_Peter stormed through the French Doors into his bedroom. _

_He almost ripped his doors off, but couldn't bring himself to care. His hands were shaking badly, when he finally found an old shirt in his closet, which was unworthy enough to be shredded for this THING. In the process of ripping the shirt apart and screaming, cursing viciously he was stopped by himself. Tears had begun streaming down his cheeks, quite sobs had racked through his body up until now. He fell to the ground, put his head in his hands, beginning with the complete cryfest. _

_Peter leaned his back against the bed, rocking his whole body forwards and backwards._

_Between his sobs he still cursed the man who did this to him. Angrily he wiped away his tears, again and again, but they wouldn't stop. With a frustrated yell he stood up and threw the first thing his hand crapped, his alarm clock, into his crying reflection. The mirror, mounted onto his closet, got a crack, but didn't split into a thousands pieces. _

_For a few seconds Peter just stood there, shock written on his face, before he collapsed anew. The thought about more broken glass gave him the rest. Peter had a total breakdown._

_When no more tears were about to fall, the youngest Petrelli took the THING and wrapped it up clumsily, as fast as possible, in one of the stripes._

_With a deep sigh he stored away the remains of his shirt. _

2010

It was a normal day for Sylar, Peter was at work like most of the time and he himself was sitting in their shared apartment with nothing better to do, than staring holes into the walls. As much as he liked the color of it, the staring could get boring after a while. With a sigh he stared at the clock. To his annoyance, the end of Peter's shift was still far away. He got up and decided to do something he wanted to do for a very long time: clean up the mass that called itself their apartment.

The former good idea exposed itself as a very bad one. He was about to clean up the little storage room first when he found _it_. _It_ had been wrapped up in a thin cloth, hidden beneath other insignificant stuff. But his damn curiosity got the better of him. The moment he touched the broken piece of glass everything came back: Sylar killing Peter with it, Claire pulling it out, Peter questioning his brother and in the end wrapping it into this cloth.

Tears filled up his eyes and when Peter came into the living room, pulling his shoes off and smiling a warm 'Hello', Sylar could only stare at him.

Peter stared back, he somehow didn't have a good feeling about the way Sylar was staring. His smile faltered.

"What is it, Sy? Did I...Eh did I do anything wrong ?"

Sylar blinked, raised his eyebrows and answered with a low tone: "Eh no. No. Not you. I did."

Now, Peter was really confused.

"I'm sorry, Sy. Help me. I don't know what you mean."

While coming fully into the apartment, Peter took off his bag and jacket. Recklessly he threw them onto the couch. What was up with the man? He felt overchallenged. Normally Sylar was the last person on earth to be depressed about something, but this...This situation was new to him.

_Something really awful must have happened while I was gone, working. _

Peter tried again: "Come on. Talk to me."

But Sylar only turned his head away.

"Listen, I'm sorry."

He couldn't look him in the eyes. Instead he once again gazed at the doomed object lying forgotten to his feet.

"I didn't mean to pry. I just wanted to clean up, you know? It's so messy and before I'll find a new job... I thought I could clean this place and ah..."

With a worried expression Peter kneeled down beside his lover.

"Shh,shh. Sy, look at me. Hey, baby. Look at me." Sylar didn't respond immediately. What he usually did, when called 'baby'. Peter felt this horrible knot deep down in his guts, what the hell had happened here?

With alook of pure pain the other man eventually turned around to peer into Peter's light brown eyes, latter took his face in both hands and leaned his forehead on Sylar's.

"You're rambling. You never ramble. Why don't you just tell me what it is, hm?", he spoke with a soft, soothing voice.

Sylar closed his eyes. He couldn't do that to Peter. He couldn't let him remember and bring him such pain like back then. He didn't know, if he was able to carry this weight, too. The resurgence he'd let Peter see, something actually to be never seen again. Ever. Because that had been the message. The piece of glass had been hidden there for a reason: to be never found.

_So, why not keep it that way?_

Sylar choose the best for both of them, in his opinion, anyway. He shook his head.

"It's nothing, Pete. Nothing."

"And everything. Tell me", he demanded with an angrily played voice.

"No."

With that said and a long sigh he loosened himself from Peter's hands.

_Well, be stubborn then._

The shorter man shoved Sylar, who with a surprised yelp fell onto his back. Peter took his opportunity and looked inside the storage room. What he saw didn't help him in any way. If possible it seemed to only make it worse. There lying innocent on the floor was a thin cloth and a broken piece of glass. Being shocked, his head whipped back to the taller man. Already winning back his balance, Sylar gazed intently at Peter's shocked expression.

"I told you-"

"What did you see?!" A breathless whisper.

"Does it really matter now? Peter, please." A tearful undertone.

But Peter stayed silent. Furiously, he was searching for an answer on his lover's face. His eyes darted around, unsure where to search or what to search for. The ex-serial killer couldn't handle this.

With a 'Damn it, Peter' he left the corridor's floor.

He paced into the bedroom, then into bathroom and back, all the while watching his every step as if there was nothing else but his feet.

Peter, while feeling a big blanket of numbness embrace him, packed away the glass and other stuff. He closed the door, leaned against the hard wood and honest to God didn't know what to think or do. Blank. How could he have been so stupid to NOT finally threw it away, when the other man moved in with him. Oh, right, because he forgot about it. Totally forgotten. What must Sy think of him now? Treasuring something like this? As a constantly reminder or some sick joke? Hell, he didn't even knew for himself.

_I'm such an Idiot_.

He was about to join Sylar, when the just mentioned man came into the living room and went straight to the wardrobe.

"What are you doing? Where the hell do you think you're going?",Peter asked disturbed.

"I don't fucking know! Anywhere but here."

"No. No! You're staying, goddamnit! You are staying right where you are! We need to talk about this,Sy."

Silence, then...

"Do we?",the other gave back with a posture clearly showing his annoyance.

It was unbelievable. The guy really wanted to talk about this. They glared at each other until finally Sylar nodded and sat down on the couch.

"Fine. Let's talk. You first."

With an increasing heartbeat and the certainty his lover would hear this, he sat down beside him and lifted one large hand to tug it into his two small ones.

"What did you see?",Peter asked again, this time calmer.

In an instant Sylar was on his legs.

"You know exactly what I saw! Everything, fucking everything, okay?! And to answer your next question: No, it is not 'okay'. I'm...I'm feeling guilty, sad and ashamed. What did I to you? How can you even love me? How can I even stand my own presence? And don't you dare go on, tell me I've changed. Yes, I fucking know that! I UNDERSTAND, that's my ability. But-",with a desperate face he looked at Peter.

"But a broken psyche is so much more complicated to heal than a broken arm. I'm afraid I can't fix myself and hurt you...again",he whispered and slumped back next to Peter.

"I'm so sorry."

Sylar began rubbing his forehead, as if he had a headache.

Determined Peter sat in his lover's lap, pulling the arms away from the other mans body, pinning the hands on the right and left side to his thighs. Sylar looked up at the smaller one. Peter shook his head, he said nothing, he didn't need to.

Slowly Peter neared Sylar's face, who had closed his eyes and listened to Peter's throbbing heartbeat. He felt the tingling sensation of breath against his lips and sealed their mouths with one final move. Their kissing rhythm started innocent, gently, steady until Peter sucked his lover's under lip in his mouth, chewing on it. Shortly after he released the abused lip and began soothing kitten like strokes with the tip of his tongue, one hand tangled in the dark, thick hair of Sylar, the other working up the shirt.

Sylar sneaked one arm around Peter's middle and pulled him closer, bringing their growing erections together, letting them moan. He opened his lips, allowing Peter access and started massaging the other tongue with his own.

It felt like an eternity later that he released Peter from his mouth with slight force, a thin trail of saliva connecting their lips.

He pulled off Peter's uniform and the shirt underneath it, the reason for the abrupt broke of the kiss, just to admire the sight of his lover's heavy heaving chest and upper body. He was about to attack one of the pink nipples when Peter stopped him.

Softly he pushed the taller man back into the cushions and pulled off Sylar's shirt, too. Hungrily he kissed him once again, before making his way down from his jaw to his earlobe where he bit not to softly. Sylar made a small noise in the back of his throat, but didn't say anything. Instead he squeezed Peter's thigh with his left hand, reassuring him. His thump made slow circles across the skin of one hipbone. His right hand grazed down the other's back and spine.

Grinning and shuddering himself Peter continued his way down to the strong neck, nibbling here and there, biting down hard where neck connected with shoulder.

"Fuck, Peter!"

"Not yet",came the husky reply near his ear, the hot breath driving him only more crazy.

With a purr, Peter stroked the bulge in Sylar's trousers lightly, making the other man groan his name once again and gripping the smaller back with more force than necessary.

The smaller man's mouth resumed his penetrations, starting by the right nipple this time. Taking him into his mouth he sucked, while unzipping his and Sylar's trousers. Both zippers down he wandered to the left, sucking and raising his hips to pull down his own trousers.

He eventually let go of the now erected nipple. Peter looked up at Sylar's blissed out face and was satisfied about the frantic panting.

"Lift your hip, baby." Sylar did as he was told and got rid of both pants, the friction making him moan loudly. Peter adored his work, while biting his lip. Keeping him from groaning and ravish the man right here. Sylar's hair was all messy, a thin layer of sweat on his whole body, pre-cum was leaking down the taller man's cock and that desire in the dark, pleading eyes...

Peter smirked and leaned back. He touched Sylar's chest lightly, feeling the familiar rush of power. Without warning he griped the other man's leaking erection and sent a light blue electric sparkle trough it.

"HOLY SHIT!" The taller man's eyes snapped open and he tried, out of reflex, to throw Peter off him, but he wouldn't let him.

Heavily breathing he sunk back, while Peter still wore that shit eating grin on his face. He leaned down for an apologizing kiss. Pulling back he stood up, slowly beginning to strip free of his boxers which was followed with hungry eyes and a lick over full lips. Completely naked now he crawled back on top of the other man. Peter ground his pelvis into Sylar's and moaned, while throwing his head back. He stared at the ceiling shortly, before kissing the other again.

One of his hands sneaked around Sylar's manhood stroking slowly, until he sent a second sparkle through the sensitive organ, this time barely sensible, but enough to let him twitch. His thump stroked across the slit and pre-cum, making the man underneath him inhale sharply.

Chuckling he let go off the swollen organ. He touched Sylar's chest one last time, before positioning himself directly over the pulsing shaft.

"Come on, help me here."

"Peter, what?"

"I got Claire's Power. It's okay."

They locked eyes. Light brown with deep ones. Sylar nodded, taking himself in his hand. With one jerk of his hips Peter was down on the other man's erection. Both screamed. Sylar out of pure pleasure and Peter because of a mix out of different feelings: the pain, the regenerating and pleasure.

Immediately he began riding himself on top of the other man, thrusting his hips upwards and Sylar meeting him with every single one. Their panting being wild and uncontrolled.

Peter gripped Sylar's shoulders tightly.

"I'm going to-"

"Hm."Sylar started stroking his lover in time with his fast, hard thrusts.

Peter's head sunk down on one of the broad shoulders and with one final cry and flick of his hip he came. His cum splashed between the two, sticking to their stomachs. The other one followed him shortly after, filling Peter with his semen. Worn out he pulled out off the shorter man and lay with him down on the couch.

Bathing in their shared afterglow no words have to be said. Sylar understood. He understood. So he decided to avoid any questions and just enjoyed the silence.

"You know,Sy. I think we should pay Tracy a visit. Her ability, the water thingy, would be a good replacement for lube", Peter mumbled sleepily. He nuzzled into his lover's throat. Sylar hummed and grinned like a mad man.

"Yeah, Peter. Yeah we should."

They both laughed without a sound, just the shaking of their exhausted body's.

end.

___big thanks to my adorable boyfriend, who came up with the water-idea! and Vicky for the beta-read 3 _


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